


Surrendering to Fate

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-26
Updated: 2005-11-26
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: All Ron wants is a shower. Too Bad it's occupied already





	Surrendering to Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

“You would think that I would be past the age of having to degnome the garden,” Ron muttered under his breath as he climbed the stairs. He had one thought on his mind-a nice cool shower. His face was streaked with dirt, his hair damp from sweat, and he just felt dirty. When he reached his bedroom he quickly disrobed, grateful for the fact that the house was empty, and headed down the hall to the loo. He briefly wondered where Hermione had gone off to, probably she was out under the willow tree reading, and decided after his shower he would join her.  
  
  
  
He didn’t hear the shower in the loo running, he was too lost in his thoughts of Hermione, but when he closed the door behind him he realized he wasn’t alone. His eyes widened, he held his breath, and stared at the outline of the woman behind the tinted shower doors. He hardened immediately. His eyes traced the lines of her body, pausing to gaze at the outline of her breasts, the curve of her arse, and he stopped thinking. His ears picked up on the fact she was humming a familiar tune and his heart raced when he realized that it was. Weasley Is Our King. His hand reached towards the shower door; he was powerless to control it. His body had taken over and his brain had ceased to function at all. His heart raced as she turned towards the showerhead, and he got a full view of her backside.  
  
  
  
His hand was opening the door. She turned about to face him; he heard her gasp, and watched as she tried to cover herself with her hands.  
  
  
  
“What are you doing here?” she gasped.  
  
  
  
He still couldn’t speak. She was beautiful, her skin flushed from the heat of the shower, the way it slid across her skin, and he wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked.  
  
  
  
He could feel her eyes rake up and down his body, he heard the hitch in her breath when her eyes fell on his erection, and he couldn’t take anymore. It was too much-her scent that surrounded him, the desire in her eyes, and he reached forward and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.  
  
  
  
“I want you,” he growled out. “I want you Hermione.” He heard her whimper and lowered his head to claim her lips with his.  
  
  
  
The feeling of her lips sliding against his was heaven. He ran his tongue across her bottom lip, requesting entrance. Pleasure shot directly to his groin when she complied, and with a groan he deepened the kiss. Tongues battled furiously for control, his hands drifted upwards to cup her full breasts, teasing her nipples to hard points. He felt her tremble, coming alive under his hands and mouth, and he was stunned to find she wanted him.  
  
  
  
Her hands slid over his back, fingernails running lightly up and down his spine, and her hands trailed their way to his arse and pulled so he was more firmly pressed against her.  
  
  
  
He lifted his mouth from hers, enjoying the moan of disappointment the spilled from her lips. “I've wanted you for so long,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along her jaw. “Say you want me too.”  
  
  
  
She arched against him, pushing her breast further into his hands, “God, yes.”  
  
  
  
“I need to hear you say it.” He blazed a trail down her neck, lifting her breast up slightly to suckle at her nipple. He delighted in her moans, the way her hands tightened around his arse, and he rubbed against her body, turning her, pushing her back against the tile, and he pressed his erection against her, needing to feel more of her. He let out a loud moan when she thrust against him.  
  
  
  
“Yes, I want you,” she moaned. “I’ve always wanted you.”  
  
  
  
The as if to prove her point to him she grabbed his hand, trailing it down her body, and placing it atop the curls that lie at the juncture of her thighs.  
  
  
  
“You’re so wet, Hermione,” he whispered, sliding his fingers through her folds, delighting in the cries coming from her as he touched her. “I want to taste you, I want to make you mine, and I want to hear you scream my name when you come.”  
  
He trailed kisses down her body, tasting the water that was coursing down her body, and he realized he was thirsty for her. Only for her.  
  
  
  
He kneeled in front of her and looked up. Her head was thrown back, her chest rose and fell rapidly, and it was erotic listening to her moan. He parted her folds and slid his tongue through them; he teased her clit before thrusting his finger inside her, and knew he wanted to see her break apart in his arms. His free hand held her to him as he explored with his mouth, learning what would cause her to moan and cry out, and he could tell she was close to the edge.  
  
  
  
He lifted his mouth and looked at her. “Come for me, let me see you fly.”  
  
  
  
“Don’t stop, Please, God, don’t stop.” She was whimpering, her hands pulling at his hair, trying to move him back to her center. “I’m so close.”  
  
  
  
He doubled his efforts, determined to see her out of control, and thrust another finger inside her as his mouth worked on her clit. He pointed his tongue and circled her clit; tugging it between his lips he sucked on it hard, and thrust another finger inside her.  
  
  
  
Her cries echoed against the tile walls as she came, he continued loving her with his mouth, riding the wave of pleasure that flowed between them. Her legs trembled and she called out his name over and over. He almost came himself from the way she sounded. He lifted his head when she tugged at his hair, and kissed his way up her body. He claimed her lips again, and her wet hands slid down his body to stroke him.  
  
  
  
He thrust into her hand, his lifted his head and let out a shuddering breath, and looked into her eyes. “Please don’t stop,” he whispered against her lips. The feeling of her hand wrapped around his length, stroking him, running her fingers across his erection was maddening. He couldn’t get enough of her, one hand fisted in her hair, and he captured her mouth again. His other hand traced over her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
  
  
He cried out when she wrenched her mouth from his to trail kisses to his ear. Her voice was low, arousal dripped from it, and she whispered mindless words of desire into his ear.  
  
  
  
Then she said it, the thing that sent his head reeling, and the tiny bit of self-control he was holding on with snapped in half. “I want you to fuck me,” she whispered.  
  
  
  
He growled, his hands slid to her waist, lifting her up the damp tile, and with a single thrust he was buried inside her. He felt her legs rise to entwine around his waist, and he began to search desperately for release. He pistoned into her over and over, his thrust pushing her against the wall, his head bent to place a frantic kiss on her lips. She moaned against him and her hands fluttered against his shoulders.  
  
  
  
“Harder!”  
  
  
  
The water flowed over them, cooling their flesh. It made them slide together, and the only sounds in the room were the water flowing from the shower head, soft cries and grunts, and the erotic sound of their skin slapping together with each of his thrusts.  
  
His head dropped to her shoulder, biting it, branding her, and he changed the angle of his thrusting, hitting the spot that would send her over the edge. He felt her shudder and her body tightened around his and heard her cry out his name as she came. The sound echoed through his head, her body clenched his shaft, and he felt his own release approach. He pounded into her faster, burying his head in her shoulder, and felt his own release trigger another in her.  
  
  
  
He spilled into her, thrusting slowly until he was spent, and he felt his knees quiver.  
  
  
  
“I guess this means you fancy me,” she whispered into the top of his head.  
  
  
  
He pulled out of her slowly, moaning at the loss of her warmth around him. “It means I love you.”  
  
  
  
He was surprise to find her eyes welling with tears and kissed away the tears pouring down her face. “You don’t have to love me back.”  
  
  
  
“You prat! I’ve loved you since I was eleven years old,” she said. “I’d give up hope.”  
  
  
  
He smiled down at her, claiming her lips again in a soft kiss. “So I guess you fancy me too?”  
  
  
  
He noticed the water-cooling but hated the thought of releasing her. He was startled by a knock on the bathroom door.  
  
  
  
“I’m glad you two finally admitted you fancy each other and all,” Harry said, his voice muffled by the thick door to the bathroom, “but Ginny and I maybe scarred for life.”  
  
  
  
“Shut up, mate,” Ron yelled back. “I’m busy here.”  
  
  
  
Ron looked down at Hermione who’s blush was as bright as his red hair, “I love you, Hermione,” he said, stepping out of the shower and offering her a hand. He marveled at how well their hands fit together and was interrupted by Harry again.  
  
  
  
“Some of us need to use the loo,” Harry yelled, sounding a little frantic. “Come on you two.”  
  
  
  
Ron couldn’t help but laugh. The two of them quickly dried off and Ron wrapped a towel around his waist. Hermione opened the door, flushing bright red, and walked past Harry without a word.  
  
  
  
“So I’m guessing you told her?” Harry smirked. “Did you have a little slap and tickle?”  
  
  
  
“You’re a prat Harry,” he said and walked away. “You’d best not mention this to my Mum or I’ll let her know what you and Ginny were up to in the pond last night.”  
  
  
  
The shock and horror on Harry’s face were revenge enough for Ron who headed down the hall whistling.


End file.
